Doing some art stuffs...

Buongiorno! I've had a couple of busy, busy weeks. I was in Rome two weekends ago and in Venice for Carnivale this past weekend (pictures and blogging for both are forthcoming). I'm off to Paris next week for spring break, so I'll have that business to share as well, when I return.

I thought I ought to talk about some of the class stuffs I've been up to, which, believe it or not, take up the majority of my time here. However, seeing as that I love nearly every second of it, it is a wonderful and not unfortunate thing. I came to study here to see Florence and go a-traveling, of course, but the major reason and occupation of my time is my art stuffs. I know that, being a pre-med kind of a person, I won't really have another chance to dance around and play at being an art student.

This semester I am taking Drawing with John (mostly, as I said earlier, figure drawing), High Renassiance Art History with Helen, Photography with Romeo, and Digital Multimedia with Dejan (pronounced Dayan, if you're interested). In this here post, I'm telling tales of D.M. It is, to be sure, an interesting class.

The class, although entitled Digital Multimedia, hasn't really discussed a lot of the technical aspects of anything you might expect to involved in this class. It would be better called, in my opinion, Contemporary and Installation Art and The Philosophy of Dejan Concerning Both These and Their Application to the City of Florence. I guess Digital Multimedia is just more catchy. For the first half of the semester, we've been having a series of lectures from Dejan on a range of topics in this area, discussing different artists and their approaches to their work. One of my favorite artists we've gone over is Sophie Calle (link to photos of her work). She's one of those artists for whom it is very difficult to distinguish the difference between the life of the artist and the art of the artist. She's also completely insane. My big photography project is inspired by her work and so, is also sort of insane, but also great fun. To be later discussed.

Anyway, so we discuss all of these ideas and listen to Dejan and his ego speaking to us for a few hours twice a week and have intermittent assignments, which I actually quite enjoy. These assignments are meant to work on observation skills and sort of get ideas going for our final project. The second half of the semester is dedicated to work on a final installation project, which, excitingly enough, we are actually going to install in a gallery in Florence and have a reception and everything. This project is meant to center around the idea of the city, to recreate a space or interaction or person or whatever using digital multimedia tools in the space of the gallery. That sounds complicated and it sort of is. Everything about Dejan is sort of complicated in a simple way. That is, the ideas he means to express are not in and of themselves terribly complex, but he always articulates them in such a way that we often sit in class listening to him and wonder if we haven't somehow gotten ourselves accidentally high.

So, these assignments. All of the pictures below are from going off on one of his assignments. Sometimes during class time, sometimes not, he gives us a place or a walk or area or some such and tells us to go make observations of the place and to bring back notes and pictures and whatever else we'd like. From these observations, we design an installation piece to recreate the event. Oh, contemporary art. We're learning a lot about the very contemporary stuff - gestures and videos and performance and installation and etc. I like a lot of it and have had the opportunity to go and see several exhibitions of current artists in the area and in Bologna, but I don't know if I'm entirely convinced about all of it.

Bologna! I had forgotten to mention that trip. I went with this class to Bologna to see one of the largest contemporary art fairs, ever. It's in this huge convention center and prominent galleries from everywhere come and exhibit their best pieces. It was an interesting look into the business side of the art game. It was great fun, but overwhelming. Ten hours of intense art is a lot. Dejan practically had a panic attack.

Anyway, so these pictures:


So one of these assignments was a trek to an address. I went on this travel with a friend from the class, Biz. She's a lovely person. We are currently working on this epic side project involving some small ceramic pieces (Biz is a potter) with photo emulsions on the surface. Hopefully we'll get that going and I can post pictures and write all about it. So, one of the other girls in the class went to this place before we did, so we knew a bit of what to expect. The address is 16 Via Della Scala, if you're interested, and the building is an old pharmacy. The shop is still in use and dates back to the beginning of the 1600s. The entrance is seen above and is not particularly exciting. It isn't something you would notice, walking down the street.


So, you walk down a long and brightly lit hallway with statues and wonder where the hell you are. At the end of the hallway is this room. Everything is ornate and mutely lit and generally gorgeous and unexpected. They sell all kinds of things: elixers and soap and tea and candles and other odd things.


See? Elixers.


One of the other rooms (there were several) where I bought the most delicious honey for the tea I brought back from Istanbul.


There is also this sort of odd reading room, with no apparent purpose. Just selves of books and no chairs and signs saying "These books are not for sale" in Italian.

All of the walls were frescoed. The windows were all very dark and these extravagent chandeliers were the source of illumination everywhere. All in all, a very odd place.

So, next we went to the underground area of the Maria Novella train station. This is a very odd and lonely and unused space in general. Biz, I believe, plans to install some sort of project there at some point.

There was this big empty area with no apparent purpose. Just endless graffiti.


Someone likes the Sex Pistols?


Biz, looking.

All of this art stuffs fills up my brain constantly. I love it and have thrown myself into it, but it does become overwhelming and underwhelming to live in the art world. I will miss it dearly, but I think I could go back to science when I return. Art, all of the time, instead of in small doses when I need it, can be too much, filling up my brain to the rafters with sparkling gold bits and building ladders down into dark basements I'd rather not spend too much time in. It can also be too little. I would miss, I think, the grandeur of science and the scale of its reach and impact.

I think I will always need both, though. They are made out of the same thing; the endless looking and curiousity and need to know things that lives in my soul. They are different ways of approaching this same thing. I just need to find a way to live and have both.

Ciao, my friends.

Home Sweet Apartment

So, I seem to be a little behind in my posting. I have much to say and pictures for all the lovely things I've been up to, but I have run out of internet in my home. Hopefully, my flatmates and I will get that up and working in the near future. As I mentioned last time, the internet situation here is a little bit screwy.

Luckily, SACI has internet in the 'lounge,' which is really just a room full of computers that is perpetually full of other students skyping and generally phuzting around. The area I consider to be the real lounge of SACI is this beautiful garden full of little hidden sculptures and pottery wheels and benchs and trees and all manner of things I love. When it gets warm, which hopefully it will soon, I imagine myself spending a good deal of time out there.

The other place I would consider a lounge of SACI is the cafe across the street. I am quite sure that the SACI students are solely responsible for the keeping the place open. It's adorable, cheap, makes a great espresso, and has really attractive proprietors (whom we refer to as our 'dealers'). The cafe is always full between classes and during the break we get in the middle of my drawing class, the whole class goes down for a cafe and, in the case of John (the professor) and John (the student) and myself, a cigarette. The break is hypothetically for the model of the class (It's figure drawing and so we draw from a model nearly every class period. We have also gone to the Academia and Piazza Signoria a few times, which is always lovely and also intimidating. John - "Okay, beginning drawing class, go draw the David."), but everyone needs a break during a three hour drawing class.

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to both keep and memory for myself and to show everyone what my home here looks like. I live in a SACI apartment with two flatmates, Lauren and Sara. We have two bedrooms, kitchen, and two bathrooms. We had a fourth roommate, Jay, who was mentioned previously as the 'LA girl,' but she moved into single a month or so ago. This means I have my own room, which is really nice, albeit slightly lonely every now and then. However, as anyone who has ever tried to live with me can attest, I am a disaster in my living space, so it's probably for the best.



This is the view after turning the corner from the front door of our home. It's always really exiciting to make it into the apartment, because it's so damned high up. That's my coat hanging haphazardly on the ledge there. You can't see in this picture, but there are also two small chairs against the wall that would be on the left of the photo, if it kept going. The stoves here are odd and take getting used to, but lighting them becomes automatic after a while. To light a burner: turn the handle on the wall that turns on the gas, turn the gas on for the burner you wish, and push the ignition button. Very exciting. I've had such a nice time cooking here. I love to cook and being able to pick up fresh food from the market to do some fills me with joy and rapture.

Lauren, sitting at the table later on that evening.


This is Sara and Laurn's room, which I creepily took a picture of while Sara was sitting on her bed. That metal thing in the right corner is our laundry rack. Noone has dryers in Italy (they use too much electricity, which is really expensive here), so everyone hangs dry their laundry. I must say, I feel like I appreciate my clothing much more, having to carefully hang dry each bit. It makes them feel more real, for some reason. I get this same feeling, picking out my food at the market, but I can't quite put my finger what this feeling particularly is.


Hallway, looking back towards the kitchen and standing next to Sara's door. The door further up along the hallway is a closet.

My room! It's a disaster, of course. But then, I live here. That chair sits in my front my desk and perpendicular to the doors to my balcony, which you can't see from here. I have all my books and postcards and things lined up on the wall above my bed. I'm a very stuff-having kind of person, so I couldn't handle leaving all of my things behind in Boston and I've already started to accumulate more stuff than I ought to here.

My desk and chair. I hardly ever work here, mostly because it's covered with stuff. I usually work at the kitchen table or out and about in Florence. All the work I do here is wonderful and I love it. I take pictures and read and write and draw and never read organic chemistry.

This is my chair on my balcony, on which I sit and smoke and contemplate at night. It's a refuge. It's quiet and still and I can see a man who sits in a window, writing at a desk every night. I have invented for him a life story that I hope dearly is true.


View downward from my balcony. So many things and houses and walls here are painted that wonderful yellow color. I love it. Also, this courtyard exemplifies for me something that is very true about Florence, but appears to be very false. The city, seen from above is very green. It's just that none of these beautiful gardens are visible from the street. If I couldn't see this area from my balcony, I would never know it was there. My professor Romeo, whom I love and adore and will speak on with greater length later, I'm sure, likes to say that this is because Florentines, while cultured and beautiful people, are very guarded. Thus, these gorgeous, but unseen gardens. It seems to be the case that the real and true Florence is still here somewhere, buried and hidden under the weight and pomp of it's Renaissance past.


This is what Florence feels like to me. Red tile roof homes and cypress trees and blue sky all just slightly out of reach.

Luckily, that clothesline reaches to my balcony.

Ciao, my friends.

Ciao Firenze!

The title of this post is a bit of a misnomer, seeing as that I have been in Florence for almost a month. I just haven't had the time or inclination or damned internet access until now to sit down and get some thoughts down.

I've been a traveling a bit and been up to all kinds of wonderful things, but instead of making a laundry list of activites, I thought it would be more fun to just go from here and write about what I have pictures of.

So, yesterday, on my way to school, I took pictures of all the things I pass everyday and that I have love for. For bonus points, look up the map online and follow along. The satellite map on Google is exciting because you can see the Duomo and such.

So, this is the view from my kitchen's window. I live on the fourth floor on a place near Santa Croce, on Borgo Allegri. It's a bit further away from SACI then some of the other apartments other students live in, but it is quieter and feels more like a neighborhood. In the picture you can sort of see the park that's across the street. One of the few green places. I do love the city, but there are not particularly a lot of trees or plants at all, really. Also, there's a mosque down the street from me. Every now and then you can just catch the call to prayer. It reminds me of Istanbul, if only a bit. Later on, I'll have to post photos and stories from that venture.
At any rate, there's actually a hilarious story connected with the mosque down the street. When I first came to Florence, the keys I was given to get into my apartment didn't work. So, after some calls and some waiting, my landlady came to help me. This was my first introduction to what I have now realized is the typical Florentine older women. She came bustling up the street, wearing a long fur coat and fur hat. Presumably seeing me standing sadly with my luggage and two friends outside the door, she came up and introduced herself. When meeting Italians in more formal situations (ie - not in a bar), there's always this moment where they realize you're American and they remember that Americans don't do the kiss kiss greeting. You can almost see them, in that split second, trying to figure out the appropriate action. There is this leaning towards you, a pause, a large lean back and hand extension. It's quite awkward and hilarious and if you're ever in the situation, look out for it.
Anyway, so I'm meeting my landlady and she's nice and sort of grouchy in an adorable way. She lets us up into the place and proceedes to show us around. During this she manages to forget which one of the three of us is actually living in the apartment (several times), make sure I knew that it is really okay that people attend a mosque nearby (this spoken in a somewhat hurried and hushed way as if she were expecting me to move out on the spot), and light her fur coat on fire. All of this accomplished without pause and the full bearing of grace and gravity only a woman wearing a fur hat can accomplish.


This picture shows my door and also the abundance of scooters.


So, now walking away from my home towards the Duomo, past the park on the left. You can sort of see the Duomo in the corner above the buildings. Actually, if not for the trees in the park, you would be able to see the Duomo from my kitchen window.


Post office! I was sad, actually, when I discovered that this post office is two minutes from my home, because in order to obtain my permisso disigorno (the spelling is absolutely butchered) - permit of stay, I hiked to the far away main post office. For some reason, in order to get this permit, part of the paperwork needed is health insurance from the Italian government, which, again for reasons unknown to me, can only be obtained at the post office. Doing the paperwork is slightly frightening and overwhelming, even having a lot of help to do it. I can only imagine trying to get the papers all together and legal on your own and especially if your Italian isn't fluent. Also, laws and the issue of legality in Italy is interesting. Everything is this sort of grey area. There are lot of laws that one might accidently break on a daily basis, many of which are enforced and many of which are not at all. For example, it is illegal to feed the pigeons (not enforced), to buy knockoff's - ie. a fake Gucci purse (enforced, I've seen people running from the police with their purchases), and to stay in the city with no permit of stay (I've no idea whether this is enforced for not). Interestingly enough, even though it is illegal to stay without a permit and there is a lot of paperwork and bureaucracy involved in this process, as well as the process of imigration, there are large communities of squattors throughout the cities. Large groups of immigrants (I've never heard of such an Italian community, but they may exist) live in abandoned buildings and are provided electricity and water by the Italian goverment. I approve of this.

Anyway.

Buses are deadly. I almost get flattened by a bus at least three times daily. This looks right of my walk to school and you can just make out the hills of the countryside in the background! I love that cities here tend to not sprawl. There's a city and that is definitely a city. Then, you leave the city and you have certainly left it. It's nice to be able to leave Florence and come upon Tuscany directly.


These three pictures are of the piazza that I walk through everyday to get to SACI. The cafe I spend much time and not so much money at is in this square.


This picture looks back on my apartment from the piazza. The building on the corner jutting out is my pharmacy and the blocky modern looking buildling is the post office.


This is my cafe! I get a cafe latte or espresso here at least once per day. Whoever says you can't live on coffee and cigarettes is really just mistaken. The woman who I assume owns the place is really sweet and always speaks to me and I always respond although neither of us speaks the other's language. She's adorable. The man who is most often working there is named Gelato Man. This establishment also has gelato and for the first week or so my roommates and I ate it just about everyday. Thus: Gelato Man.


This is my favorite grafitti! Funny story about grafitti - my former roommate Jay (whom I adore and find hilarious) and I were walking home one night and she turned to me and said something to the effect of, "There's so much grafitti everywhere! Are we, like, in the ghetto or something?" No, Jay we are not in the ghetto. Jay is from LA. I use this as an explanation.


This is Eby's! They have burritos and wonderful cuba libres. I was very excited that rum and coke is called cuba libre in Italy as well as in Argentina.


Parking lot with fun colors. Also, awkward trash recepticle, which I could not figure out at first. Apparently, you have to push your foot down on a metal bar, in the same way that kitchen trashcans work, to open the lid. Who knew?


This is a cobbler's shop. Yes, they still have those. It always freaks me out because everytime I walk by it, I think it says "Hell Express." Luckily, though, it doesn't.

Man with a magic poncho. Also, the public library. Just for your information, this is walking up Via Dell Oriuolo.


Approaching the Duomo.


Two photos of fun grafitti in the Duomo piazza.


Scaffolding around the Duomo - everything in Florence is perpetually under construction. There is no end in sight to the restoration process here. It says a lot, I think about the culture of Florence in general. It's this sort of perpetual attempt to show and economize the past of the city. It's a shell of itself, of what it was at the height of power and aesthetics. However, I am finding, increasingly, that there is more to the city that just this. More on this later.


My view of the bell tower as I head towards SACI. This is walking in the direction of the baptistery.

Baptistery with its fake gold doors. Unbeknown to most people, the original golden doors made for the baptistery are in the Duomo museum, which I just visited, actually. It was quite nice and I highly recommend it. Included in it's collection is one of the Pieta by Michelangelo, which is one of my favorites. Here's a link, if you're interested: Pieta del Duomo.


Steps of the Duomo, perpetually covered in tourists with umbrellas (it's very rainy, this time of year.)


Aw.


View of Via de' Cerretani.


This store is everywhere! I don't understand why. Also, you may have noticed that mannequins in Italy are creepy and very sexualized. One of my friends here is doing a project on the topic. Stolen from her blog:
"You can’t really understand the entire concept unless you’ve seen European – specifically Florentine mannequins. The mannequins here are very sensual, sexy and clearly the idealized versions of man and woman. But what you might find odd is the way they are each unique. When I first glimpsed these mannequins (and as Florence is a fashioniste city there are many) I didn’t even notice the clothing on the mannequin, I was much too interested in the care, detail, and personality of each piece....A mannequin’s purpose is to show you how close sit on the body – but now marketing, the fashion world, and our own ideals have promoted mannequins into a realm of material idol worship. We don’t just want the clothes on the mannequins – we seek out the bodies of the mannequins." - Katie F.


I have to walk under this scary construction and sign everyday. So, I thought I'd give you a picture.


Love this grafitti.


Giant mobile phone? This is a place we tried to get internet, but found it to be too expensive. We eventually, after an epic struggle managed to get internet in our home. It's this very odd (to me, anyway) system similar somewhat to the phone system. In order to get internet, one can not just call up the equilivant of comcast. You have to buy a SIM card and modem, place the SIM card into a phone, order internet via the phone, and finally put the SIM card into the modem. This process took a very long time, seeing as that it was accomplished mostly by trial and error. The men from whom we bought the modem didn't really speak English and I don't speak Italian. Also, I got the vibe that they would have been only marginally more helpful if one of us were fluent in the others' language, but that is neither here nor there.


You may be asking yourself, "Is this a stand selling large, dangerous looking knives?" Yes, Virginia, it is.


I pass this museum everyday and I still do not understand it. I wonder if anyone ever goes into it.


This is the Riocafe, billed as "Florence's American Dinner." They have a picture of pancakes and a waitress on skates on their pamphlet. I haven't been, but I'm sure the day will come when I crave pancakes or a burger. I find it very humourous that it exisits.


Kebab! It's everywhere for some reason. I haven't gotten any yet, but I want to in the near future. I find myself missing Istanbul, which is odd because I spent so little time there. I just loved it, everything about it. I would love to go back and live there someday. I love the culture and I love the hookah and the chai and I miss it dearly. All I want in the world is to find a place to sit and drink a coffee and write and read and sketch. I'll let you know if I find one.


This is turning on Via. Sant Antonino and more grafitti that I adore.


View of S. Antonino. You can see San Maria Novella in the background.


SACI's door! The building is the home of the last pupil of Galileo. Which I think is super wonderful. I love SACI. Love and adore it. It's so different from Northeastern, in a number of ways. Firstly, its an art school. So that, in and of itself makes a huge difference. Also, it's tiny; we have less than 150 students in total. All of the professors seem to actually care about our lives. Which makes me dance. I really and sincerely hope that I can come out of this semester with some serious art stuffs and some equally serious plans to continue that work. Maybe it's simply because I'm here, but I am so in love with art. I love it and worship and covet it. I want it to always be a part of my life. I think if I went back to life in Boston as it was, it would be a grave error and slap in the face to this gorgeous oppurtunity. I feel like I've had the chance to play at having a different life and damned if I'm going to waste it.


Ciao for the moment, my friends.